Silence
by RikaFurude13
Summary: Gakuen AU. Arthur and Gilbert transfer into Hetalia Academy, a small boarding school in the US. It is a seemingly normal school, but, like any school, it has its secrets-especially in the case of one mute boy named Alfred Jones.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

"It's so loud," Gilbert complained, squeezing his crimson eyes shut as he stood in the hallway that was bustling and full of students wearing the green and white standard-issue uniform of Hetalia Academy. "Why does it have to be so loud?"

"It's high school," sighed his companion, who was quickly getting tired of Gilbert's incessant complaining. "What do you expect?"

The admissions counselor had decided that it was a simply _wonderful _idea to keep him and the temperamental German teenager stuck together. They shared a dorm room, which was an arrangement Arthur understood. What he did not understand is why he and Gilbert shared the same schedule. They could not have possibly come from the same academic background, and Arthur was really beginning to doubt that Intro to Psychology was a class that Gilbert would enjoy. Also, their first hour was a cooking course, and Arthur was dreading it.

Anyhow, Arthur barely knew Gilbert, but he had already decided that he was going to dread living in a dorm room with the boy until the end of semester (which the counselor had kindly stated was the _only_ time when new roommates would be negotiated). Arthur understood the action. He and Gilbert were both new students, and they were transferred rather unceremoniously to the small boarding school in the middle of the semester. Both of their families had to move. Arthur's father was enlisted in the American military, and Gilbert said that his family moved to America for a "new change", whatever that meant. Arthur did know that Gilbert had moved from somewhere in East Germany. Arthur himself had moved from London. Coming to such a small American town in the middle of nowhere was a huge adjustment to cope with. At least they still spoke English. Arthur absent-mindedly wondered if Gilbert was having any trouble. He then mentally smacked himself for caring.

Gilbert was still talking away, oblivious to the fact that Arthur was no longer listening to him. Arthur looked at his schedule again, and then at the clock. 7:13 A.M. There was still half an hour before classes began. He nudged Gilbert, who made a face as he was interrupting in the midst of his monologue.

"What?" Gilbert asked, glaring lightly at the Brit.

Arthur forced a smile towards the German. "I think we should try to look for all of our classes. That way we won't get lost later on."

"Can't I enjoy the first thirty minutes of school without doing school-related things?" protested Gilbert.

"Fine. I'll go by myself, then." Arthur started walking off.

Gilbert looked around him at the unfamiliar faces, all talking amongst themselves. Gilbert then looked at Arthur's retreating figure. "Crap," Gilbert muttered to himself before running after the Englishman.

Arthur sighed as he heard Gilbert fall into step beside him. "I see you changed your mind."

"Are you kidding? I don't want to be left alone in this place. Everybody looks at me like I'm some sort of weirdo."

"Here we are with the complaining, again," muttered Arthur. "What do you expect?" He said again. "We are new students. Of course we are going to be looked at strangely."

Gilbert scoffed, "An awesome Prussian like myself should not be subjected to such close scrutiny."

"Prussian? Aren't you from Germany?"

"No, I'm from _Prussia_."

"But Prussia is now a part of Germany."

"Posh," Gilbert frowned. "Prussia is not simply a _part of _Germany. How would you like it if I said you were from the United Kingdom, even though you're from England? Then you would know how I feel."

Arthur sighed as he walked along the corridors, periodically looking away from Gilbert to look at the numbers over the doors. "That makes absolutely no sense. For one thing, England _is_ a part of the United Kingdom, so saying I'm from the United Kingdom would be right. And another thing, England actually still is a country. Prussia isn't."

Gilbert opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it, coming up with nothing to retort. Arthur smiled lightly at his victory as he opened the door to their first class, hesitantly looking inside for other people.

"Cooking?" Gilbert grinned. "I love cooking."

Arthur shuddered. Cooking was the bane of his existence.

The room was large, with several little kitchens complete with ranges, microwaves, sinks, and plenty of different utensils and cooking supplies. There was a single refrigerator at the front of the room, and there was an island in the middle of the room with a range and sink- Arthur assumed that that was the demonstration table. The rest of the room was made up of six tables. Arthur sighed inwardly. He never did like working in groups.

There was nobody in the room save for an elderly woman, who Arthur assumed was the teacher. He stepped inside, and the woman smiled and stood.

"Ah, hello there. I wager you two are the new students?" she asked amicably, and Arthur relaxed at her polite attitude. At least it didn't seem like the teacher would be the Satan to this culinary Hell….

"Yep! I am Gilbert Beilschmidt, and this lump is Arthur." Gilbert introduced them rather enthusiastically, putting his arm around Arthur's shoulders. Arthur immediately shrugged him off. The teacher smiled a little.

"Kirkland, right?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"I am Mrs. Thompson. I do hope you all will have fun in this class. It's a pretty relaxed atmosphere, so I'm sure you two shall fit in quite nicely."

"Thanks," Gilbert grinned.

Mrs. Thompson nodded. "Here. I'll check you out your textbooks and show you where you'll be sitting. You can leave your things here if you need to go anywhere else."

"Thank you very much," said Arthur, though, on the inside, he was panicking. Not only was he in a _cooking_ class, but he was also cursed with reading _about _cooking in textbooks. This world truly hated him, didn't it?

"Here you are." Mrs. Thompson handed over the thin textbooks to Gilbert and Arthur after writing down their numbers. "Now, for your seats… Do you two want to sit together in a group?"

"No!" they both exclaimed simultaneously. Mrs. Thompson smiled an amused smile.

"Alright then. Gilbert, you will be in this group here, with Lovino, Francis, and Antonio." She pointed to a seat at one of the tables. Gilbert set his bag down next to the seat. "I think you will get along quite nicely with these people. Though, remember to keep them in check, Mr. Beilschmidt, they get distracted kind of easily."

She moved over to another table on the other side of the room. "This is your group, Arthur. With Matthew and Feliciano. They sometimes struggle because they are a small group, so I'm glad you have come."

Arthur smiled a little as he set his bag down as well. If she thought he was going to be an asset to this group, she was deathly wrong. He could tell this would be his worst class already. Lovely.

"Okay, well, I shall see you later, Mrs. Thompson. Gilbert and I need to see our next class."

"See you in twenty-five minutes, boys." She smiled. Gilbert sighed and went out with Arthur.

"Wait, wait, wait." Gilbert stopped Arthur, pressing a hand to Arthur's chest. "Our next class is _Calculus_? I haven't even passed out of Geometry yet!"

"I suppose they looked at my records to choose that gem," Arthur responded with a sigh.

"Dude, you're in Calculus? You're a complete nerd, aren't you?"

"I have a life, if that's what you mean. Or, at least, I had one."

"Whatever. I'm going to find that counselor to get my schedule changed. I know you want the awesome me with you 24/7, but I'm going to die if I have to take Calculus. See you in first class, bro." Gilbert walked off. Arthur smirked, noting that Gilbert was going the wrong way.

Arthur, as he went visited all of his new teachers, noted that there were only five people in his Calculus class, two people in his Biology class, and eleven people in his English Literature class. Arthur was relieved. He never did like large classes. He supposed that was the benefit to being placed in all of the advanced classes.

He did not get a chance to go to all of the classes he was to have that day or the next, however, because those three classes alone amounted to five books he had to carry. One calculus book, one heavy biology book, and three English ones. Granted, the English books were small, but Arthur's arms were already hurting, and he just wanted to sit down.

He made it back to the cooking classroom just before the five minute bell rang. There were a few more students in the class than before, and Gilbert wasn't back yet from the counselor. Arthur was greeted by a cold glare from a brown-haired boy sitting at the table Gilbert was supposed to be at. Charming.

He shrugged off the stare and went to sit at his table, where a boy who looked a lot like the glaring boy was already seated across from him.

"Hello! My name is Feliciano Vargas! Are you new here?" The boy held out a hand cheerily, his amber eyes dancing excitedly as he introduced himself.

Arthur frowned slightly at the obvious question before smiling and shaking the boy's hand. "Yes, I'm new. My name is Arthur Kirkland."

"Nice to meet you!" Feliciano responded. "Where are you from?"

"England."

"How cool! I've always wanted to go there! I'm from here, but my mother and father were immigrants from Italy. I wish I knew Italian though. My parents speak it at home, but I have never really gotten the hang of it."

"That's okay. I don't know any foreign languages either."

Feliciano laughed. "That's my twin brother over there. Lovino." He gestured to the glaring boy, who was looking through his textbook absently.

"Ah," Arthur said, unsure of how to respond to that fact. "Uh, are you two really similar?"

"Oh, no!" Feliciano laughed again. "Lovi and I don't hang out like we used to. He's really good friends with Antonio, though he would never admit it, haha!"

"I see…" Arthur replied.

"That over there is Feliks Łukasiewicz. Everybody knows he likes to crossdress, and he's proud of it! Though some people like to bully him because of it. He's best friends with Toris Laurinaitis, but he's not in this class. Maybe you'll meet him later!"

Arthur nodded, only half-listening to the introductions, but still grateful for the information he was able to glean from Feliciano's rapid-fire speech. Gilbert finally walked into the classroom. He had a triumphant expression; Arthur guessed that his plans of changing his schedule were a success.

"Oh, who's that?" Feliciano asked. Arthur felt a little smug at being the one with all of the information for once.

"That's Gilbert Beilschmidt. He's from Germany. And… he's my roommate."

"Cool!" Feliciano smiled as more and more students poured into the cooking classroom. A blonde boy with dark blue-violet eyes sat next to Feliciano, glancing questioningly at Arthur.

"Hello," the boy greeted quietly. Arthur smiled.

"Hello. I'm Arthur."

"Matthew. It's nice to meet you."

Arthur nodded as the late bell rang and Mrs. Thompson closed the classroom door.

"Alright, students, let's get started."

And thus began Arthur's Hell.

* * *

"I am so sorry," Arthur said again, hiding his face in his hands.

"It's okay, Arthur," Matthew replied, still trying to salvage the soup they were making that day. First, Arthur had nearly cleaved off a finger cutting tomatoes, and then he had mistaken sugar for salt and salt for cornstarch. Feliciano had turned the heat up too high and the soup had managed to boil over. Arthur was in the process of mopping up.

"Five minutes left, students," Mrs. Thompson reminded the class, oblivious to the war zone that was Arthur's kitchen.

"I think we all should give up," Feliciano protested. "This is not going to be saved."

"I will manage it," muttered Matthew, who was barely paying attention to his groupmates as he kept trying to rescue the soup. Arthur felt a pang of regret, knowing that the group's bad grade was all of his fault.

"It isn't your fault," said Feliciano, seemingly reading Arthur's mind. "We should have taken you seriously when you said that you were bad at cooking."

"I should have looked at the labels more closely," replied Arthur, not wanting Feliciano to feel bad about himself.

"We can make it," Matthew said, determined. Arthur admired the boy's perseverance, but it he knew that it was a hopeless cause.

The teacher's timer went off, and everybody stopped cooking. Mrs. Thompson smiled. "Bring up your bowls, and we'll begin the judging!"

Arthur groaned. What kind of teacher judged cooking anyway? She had to be some sort of sadist, right? And here he thought she was a harmless old lady.

Matthew spooned the soup into a bowl and their group got in line for the taste-testing. They were in the back. Arthur that that was a good decision to be last. He was sure their soup would destroy her taste buds forever.

God, he was _really_ bad at cooking.

Arthur's uneasiness got more and more pronounced as they moved up in line. Matthew was smiling confidently, and Feliciano looked just as nervous as Arthur felt. At least Arthur had a poker face.

Feliciano cracked as soon as Matthew set the bowl in front of the teacher. "Don't eat that, Mrs. Thompson, if you value your life!"

Snickers were heard across the classroom. Arthur was ready to swim back to England at this point, especially once he heard Gilbert's disturbing laugh, which sounded vaguely like a 'kesesese'.

Mrs. Thompson chuckled. "It can't be that bad, Feliciano." She spooned up some of the soup, and Arthur closed his eyes tightly, ready for her to fall over choking or something.

"Mm! This is so unusual, but it's really good!"

Arthur's eyes snapped open in complete shock. Mrs. Thompson was smiling at them. Matthew grinned in triumph and Arthur was not even sure she could have been tasting the right soup.

"W-what?" he asked.

"That's right! This is so unique! It's very sweet, but it has this salty savory flavor that balances it all out. How did you three manage this? I haven't tasted anything like this before. Great job!"

Arthur couldn't believe it as he and his group went back to their seat. He had gotten through his first cooking class without killing someone. He looked at Matthew.

"How did you do it?"

Matthew smiled abashedly. "Cooking is something I like to do. It was nothing."

Arthur grinned back. "I'm just going to warn you now- you're going to have to pull off those magic tricks all of time now, while I'm still here."

"I do hope you won't drop this class, Arthur," Matthew said, picking up on Arthur's eventual plan. "You may not be very good at cooking, but this is a class that could teach you. And you are a good person. I would hate to see you go."

Arthur looked at Matthew's genuine expression and smiled. "I guess I can stay awhile."

* * *

"Great to see yet another student to add to my long list." Mrs. Macumber grinned as she directed Arthur to his seat. There were only two other students in the classroom: a brown-haired boy who was scribbling something in a notebook, and a blonde boy who was reading. He recognized neither of them, but the blonde one looked familiar…. That was it. He looked like Matthew, except his hair was shorter and his eyes looked to be blue instead of purplish. For a second, he probably would have mistaken him for Matthew.

Arthur sat down and took out his textbook as Mrs. Macumber organized some papers. "We are right in the middle of the cell respiration unit, Arthur. If you have any trouble, do not be afraid to ask. This is a college-level class, but I will help you at all times, okay?"

Arthur nodded, looking at the other two people.

"Dang, I forgot to print off something. I'll be back in a jiffy!" Mrs. Macumber jogged out of the room. Arthur could tell that she was a very unconventional teacher already.

The brunette looked at him. "Hello. My name is Toris."

The name was familiar. Arthur remembered that Feliciano had talked about him. "Arthur. Pleased to meet you."

Arthur looked at the Matthew look-alike, who had raised his eyes from his book and was staring at him intently. "What's your name?" Arthur asked uncomfortably.

The blonde did not answer. He just stared.

"That's Alfred," Toris answered for him. Arthur was confused. Could Alfred not answer for himself?

"Well… it's nice to meet you, Alfred," Arthur replied slowly. Alfred stared for another moment, and then went back to his book. Arthur felt as if he was missing out on something here. Alfred's behavior did not seem exactly cold, but it wasn't very welcoming, either.

Mrs. Macumber entered the classroom again with her papers. "All right! Let's get started!" She grinned widely.

It was finally lunchtime. There was only one more class after lunch and then study hall. Arthur concluded that, so far, this was the strangest day of school he had ever had. Not only did he avoid killing someone during cooking class, he had spent half an hour in calculus talking to a kid named Eduard about how to throw an egg down a staircase without breaking it, and he had spent an uncomfortable eighty minutes with the quiet Toris and silent Alfred. Mrs. Macumber was really fun, though, a total science geek.

Now Arthur was looking out over the busy lunchroom. He saw Feliciano, but he was with Lovino, and Arthur was uncomfortable around him. Perhaps he could look around for Matthew…?

"Hey!" Gilbert shoved through a crowd and put an arm around Arthur. "What's up, Artie? Wanna eat lunch with the awesome me?"

"As if. I have to _l__ive_ with you. Can't I have some peace here at school?"

Gilbert laughed and steered Arthur to an empty table. "You cannot deny how much you want to eat lunch with me. Bask in my greatness, Arthur, before it belongs to other friends."

"I'm not your friend."

"Whatever. Francis was in my second hour, and he's a pretty cool guy. He's a pervert, but cool."

"Fascinating. I take it you decided to stay out of Biology too, huh?"

"I've already taken Biology. Besides, I don't like science. Decided to take chemistry instead, because it's required." Gilbert opened his carton of milk and took long swigs from it. He put down the carton and grinned at Arthur. "Haven't you taken Biology yet?"

"I have, but this is advanced Biology. It goes deeper."

"Yeah? What's it like?"

Arthur thought back to the strange atmosphere. "It was okay. There are only two other people in the class, so the small size was nice."

"Cool. Who were they?"

"Some kid named Toris- he was nice enough. And then there was this other student named Alfred, who didn't speak at all."

"Alfred? He was in my piano class!" Gilbert grinned.

"You play piano?" Arthur asked, shocked.

Gilbert laughed. "Not at all. It was the only class available. There's some prick in there named Roderich who thinks he's better at piano than everyone else."

"Is he?"

"Yeah, he is." Gilbert laughed. "Anyway, Alfred didn't talk in that class either. Teacher called roll and he just raised his hand. He's pretty good at piano, though, but not as good as Roderich. It seems like he's not that popular. Nobody talks to him and they avoid him like the plague. It's so weird."

"It is a little weird…." Arthur agreed, absently picking at his food as he pondered. He knew Alfred shouldn't fascinate him as much as he did, but it was still a mystery that kept nagging on his mind.

* * *

Alfred set down his bookbag as he entered his home, all of the homework he would need in his arms. His parents weren't home, but his older brother was.

"Hello, Alfred," said Matthew in greeting, not looking up from a book he was annotating.

Alfred said nothing, brushing past him and going into his room. Things had gotten better between him and Matthew over the past year or so, but it was still awkward to be in the same room as his brother for a long time. Alfred sat on his bed, looking at his Biology textbook. He really should start on his homework, but he didn't feel up to it.

He clasped his hands and bowed his head, whispering his prayer for the day. He only spoke out loud to God… not since the incident…. He felt like he had been wrong somehow, and now a lot of people despised him for it. All except one person, but he was gone now.

"_Take heed to yourselves: If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him." _

_~St. Luke 17:3_

* * *

**AN: I hope this idea is interesting! I also hope that the Bible verse does not offend anyone (though I don't know if it really should….). Please drop a review! I am curious as to what everybody thinks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I apologize for the long wait. I have never written so much for single chapters before, and sometimes writing is like trying to pull teeth or move water with a basket. From now on, I hope to be able to update at least every week- if not, then every fortnight (2 weeks). I will not let this story go under my radar, so no worries! It will be finished!**

* * *

"Hey! Wake up, Mr. Brit!"

Arthur was jolted awake by a firm prodding to his shoulder. He blinked and looked up at the grinning face of Gilbert. Arthur's eyes narrowed. This was not how he wanted to wake up.

"I'm awake. Happy? Now get away," Arthur said grumpily. Gilbert laughed.

"Not a morning person, huh?"

Arthur sat himself up, stretching. "Not in the slightest," he answered as he reluctantly got out of bed.

Gilbert was still in his pajamas, but it looked like he had been awake for quite a while. Arthur didn't question him, though. He just stared as Gilbert picked up the remote control and switched the television on. Arthur scowled in annoyance.

"You are watching television this early? Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

Gilbert shrugged. "I always watch in the morning. It helps me get ready for my day. It's like a zen thing, you see."

"I don't see at all. I assume you are going to watch your… monster truck programs?"

Gilbert laughed again. "No, silly. Those aren't on in the morning. What do you want to watch, huh? Doctor Who? Top Gear?"

"I am fond of neither of those shows," Arthur responded.

"What? I thought every Brit liked Dr. Who."

"Is that supposed to offend me?" asked Arthur.

Gilbert frowned. "No. Why don't you like it?"

Arthur shrugged. "I watched a few episodes a while back… and I have to say that it was not something I was very into. It was… strange."

"What programs do you like, then?" Gilbert asked, flipping through the channels before finally settling on a news station.

"'The Bouquet residence, the lady of the house speaking.'"

"What?" Gilbert was confused at what Arthur decided to provide for an answer.

"You don't know what that's from?" Arthur asked. "I wouldn't expect it. It was a show from the nineties."

"Oh, so you like old stuff."

Arthur sighed. "It's 'Keeping Up Appearances'. It's a charming show about a middle-class woman who wants to climb the social ladder, so she pretends to be more affluent than she really is."

"I've never heard of it."

"Like I said, I wouldn't expect you to have. It is simply a lovely show, though." Arthur smiled before getting his uniform and going to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for school.

He was fixing his hair when Gilbert's voice loudly permeated the door of the bathroom.

"HEY ARTHUR, GUESS WHAT? SOME OF THE MILK IN CANADA COMES IN BAGS! BAGS!"

Arthur flinched at the volume of Gilbert's voice.

"Keep it down, will you?" he asked through the door.

"Isn't it funny?" Gilbert yelled back.

Arthur sighed. "As funny as it can be," he mumbled, Gilbert still guffawing outside the door.

Arthur exited the bathroom. "I'm going to breakfast. Have fun with your Canadian milk bags." He grabbed his key and left the room.

* * *

Arthur stood in the breakfast line, moving forward as the kind-looking lunch lady doled out portions for breakfast. Arthur got a simple bowl of oatmeal and stood near the side of the cafeteria, eyes roving from table to table in order to find a person he at least recognized- he did not feel too keen on sitting alone.

Arthur felt a rush of relief as he saw Matthew sitting alone at the end of long table, eating pancakes while reading. Arthur slowly went to him. As he approached, Matthew looked up and smiled.

"Hey, Arthur. You can sit here, if you would like," he said in greeting. Arthur nodded and sat down across from him as Matthew closed his book and began adding more maple syrup to his pancakes.

"You like syrup, I wager?" Arthur asked, astounded that the quiet boy seemed to have such an insatiable sweet tooth.

Matthew shrugged unabashedly. "It's really the only type of sweet I like, apart from those maple candies I used to get from my Nan. Maybe I should have been born Canadian. One year, I was able to go to Canada and see how the maple is extracted from the trees, and how it was made. I got to try fresh maple syrup, and it was _amazing_."

Arthur chuckled a little as he tried his oatmeal. It was tasteless, but not disgusting, so he ate another bite.

"I love coming here for breakfast, because they spend a lot of time making the pancakes good. It's worth getting up early for."

Arthur was confused. "You make it seem like you don't live here."

"I don't. Well… I don't live in the dorms, at least. You are required to live in the dorms if you aren't staying with family. I've lived here in good ol' Lindsborg, Kansas my entire life, and I just received my driver's license, so I drive to school and live with the rest of my family."

"Oh, okay. My family lives in Fort Davis."

"Army brat, are you? Cool. That's about, what, sixty minutes away from here? Quite a drive, if your parents want to visit you."

"I agree, but it's fine," Arthur replied as he ate more of his oatmeal.

"When's your birthday?" asked Matthew suddenly. Arthur blinked.

"Why do you ask?"

"If you are going to be here for a while, I'd like to at least extend a cordial, giving attitude. I figure the moves must be stressful, so this is my way of giving back to your addition to the community. I asked Gilbert for his yesterday, too, so don't think I'm being a stalker or anything."

"Oh, you don't need to do that," Arthur responded, surprised that Matthew would want to do that for him so soon after meeting him. "But, if you must know, my birthday is the 23rd of April. But no gifts, you hear?"

Matthew grinned devilishly. "No promises can be made, my good man. No promises at all."

Arthur smiled. "I never pegged you as the obstinate type, to be honest."

"Hey, I was stubborn in cooking class yesterday, wasn't I? I am actually the most stubborn of them all. My parents always say I should be a lawyer because I can argue without losing my temper."

Arthur nodded slowly. "I can see that. So, if you are going to be so stubborn about all of this, then at least tell me this: when's _your_ birthday? You are going out of your way to extend a cordial attitude; I should like to reciprocate that."

Matthew shrugged. "Fair enough. You'll have to wait a while though. My birthday is July 4."

"The Fourth of July? It must be sad, being born on a holiday."

"It's not as bad as born born on Christmas, though," Matthew pointed out, finishing the last of his pancakes. "It's actually not that bad at all. When we were young, my parents told my brother and I that all of the fireworks were to celebrate us because we were 'bound to change the world'."

Arthur tilted his head a little. Something in his brain clicked into place.

"You have a brother?" Arthur asked.

Matthew's expression quickly became more guarded, and he began to fidget. Arthur felt bad- he wasn't exactly sure what he had done wrong.

"Uhm, yeah, I have a brother," Matthew finally responded, more timidly than before. "A twin brother, actually."

"Oh!" Arthur exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood. "That must be fun. I… I have two older brothers and two younger brothers."

Matthew seemed grateful for the opening Arthur gave him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"So many! A family of boys, huh? What are they like? Are they taking the move well?"

Arthur smiled, glad to have gotten out of the ditch he nearly dug himself into.

"My oldest brother is at university back in England. My second oldest brother paid his way into a Catholic school near here. He was able to get a lot of scholarships because his grades are excellent. He was able to get all of the necessary funds and measures himself, because he would have been going here, otherwise."

"Why did he have to go alone?" Matthew asked.

"My parents aren't Catholic and we weren't raised Catholic. My father isn't keen Catholics so my brother's kind of the outcast of the family. My mum's real nice to him, though, and she doesn't care what religion he practices, which is a good thing. She helped him with the admissions process for his school, so he wasn't completely alone."

Matthew looked contemplative. "That must be hard for him. But I think people care less about religion here, so he should be fine."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "He was really excited when he heard that we were moving to America. More excited than I was, at least. My youngest brother Peter was really looking forward to it as well; he's probably the only one in our family who loves to move."

"How old is Peter?"

"He is eleven. He's in junior high right now."

"So you are the middle child, then. Is it true that the middle child gets ignored the most?"

"I'm not sure about that. I don't think my parents pay any less attention to me than my other brothers. I think my second oldest brother takes the cake for that one, at least. My family does have a war effort, though."

Matthew looked shocked. "A… _war_ effort? What do you mean?"

"It's called 'The Kirkland Coalition To Keep Arthur Away From The Stove At All Times.'"

Matthew laughed nervously. "Oh… ha ha, I thought you were being serious."

Arthur put on a face of seriousness. "Oh, I am being serious. My mother and little brothers get really into it. They have scheduled meetings to think up 'war strategies' and make posters, things like that. It's like I'm some war-mongering juggernaut who wants nothing more than to blow up the kitchen."

"If only they knew you were in a cooking class… in a public institution, no less," joked Matthew, standing up to throw away his garbage. "Anyway, I should probably get to class. It was really nice talking with you, Arthur."

Arthur nodded as he stood too. "Likewise. I shall see you later."

Matthew grinned and turned away, leaving the cafeteria.

Arthur threw away his trash, getting ready to go to his first class as well. Something caught his eye and he froze, seeing Alfred at a table very near to the one he and Matthew were just sitting at.

Now that Arthur looked at Alfred, he really saw the similarities between him and Matthew. Alfred was sitting with two girls, respectfully staring at the one who was speaking as he absently pushed around his breakfast cereal with his spoon. The speaking girl had very short, almost-platinum blonde hair, and the girl beside her had longer, darker hair with a striped bow in it. The longer-haired girl's face was almost without expression, as if was caught in a perpetual state of blankness. The other girl seemed more charismatic, and she talked while passionately moving her hands.

Arthur did not even realize he was staring until he received a shove from another student who was pushing by, almost toppling him over. Arthur frowned in irritation and quickly left the cafeteria, more curious now than ever before.

* * *

Arthur went to his first class and the lady, Ms. Moran, guided him to his seat. To his slight chagrin, Gilbert hadn't changed his schedule for the day, so Arthur was expecting to see him all day, and he was assigned to sit next to him. Ms. Moran sat down across from them and went over the syllabus because she did not get a chance to do so the day before, when Arthur had visited her.

After the introductions, Gilbert started to talk to the girl sitting at the table with them. Arthur barely caught her name: Elizaveta Hedevary.

Arthur was just absently staring around the room, trying to see how many of the people he knew, when he saw Alfred walk into the classroom, followed by the short-haired girl who he was talking with at breakfast. Arthur quickly looked away, not wanting to seem creepy or overly curious, though he felt he was probably a combination of both. The bell signaling the start of class began, and Ms. Moran told the class to bring the tables together and group up immediately to start discussing a novel Arthur hadn't read yet.

Arthur didn't say much because he hadn't read the book yet. However, he at least said something, especially when the conversation strayed away from being strictly in the book.

On the other hand, throughout the entire class, Alfred did not say a single word.

* * *

"Is there something conspiring against me?" Arthur quietly asked Gilbert as he saw Alfred near their lockers in gym class. Alfred was already dressed out, and he seemed busy writing something down on a piece of paper, oblivious to everything around him.

Gilbert snickered. "What? A little flustered that you are seeing your little crush all around now?"

Arthur smacked him on the arm. "It's not a crush, you git. I'm just curious."

"About what?"

"About why he never seems to talk to anyone. Even if he's with someone who seems like his friend, he doesn't talk to them. You said he never talked in piano class, he clearly wanted to say something in English class but never said it, and he never asked anything in Biology yesterday. Something's up."

Gilbert scoffed, "You're just paranoid. And it's a little creepy, how we are two days in and you are already going all detective on me. You wouldn't happen to like Sherlock Holmes, would you?"

"Sherlock Holmes? Sure, the novels were brilliant. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle- I take pride in sharing my name with a literary genius."

"You're weird. I've only seen the movies. I did know they were books first, though, so don't peg me as a lost cause yet, 'kay?"

Arthur chuckled. "Fine."

He changed into his gym clothes and left the locker room with Gilbert. Apparently, according to Mr. Lancroft, the gym teacher, it was lap-running day, and Arthur dreaded it. He hoped that his first day of gym class could at least be kickball or something, at least. He wasn't the most athletic of people, in all honesty.

_How do you grade people on running, anyway?_ He thought to himself as the buzzer went off and he began running. Arthur ran about a quarter of a lap behind Alfred, recognizing the longer-haired girl running beside the silent boy from breakfast. He turned to Gilbert, who was enjoying a leisurely jog.

"Do you know who that girl by Alfred is?"

Gilbert looked and frowned. "No idea. You are being creepy again. Or are you bisexual? Do you have a crush on her too?"

If they had not been running in front of Mr. Lancroft, Arthur probably would have done something horrendously violent to the snickering Gilbert. He made a mental note to whack Gilbert aside the head later.

* * *

"This has…. to… to be illegal…" Arthur panted as he waited in line for the water fountain. Mr. Lancroft had had them running for a full hour, and had given the class the last twenty minutes to cool off and socialize.

Gilbert laughed as best he could while trying to drink water at the same time.

"When you collapse from asphyxiation from water, know that I hold no pity for you," Arthur managed to say between breaths.

After Arthur had gotten his breath back, accompanied by copious amounts of water, he ventured over to the corner where the long-haired girl and Alfred sat.

"Ah, hello," he said awkwardly as they both looked at him. The girl's expression (or lack thereof) was the same as it had been at breakfast, and her blue striped bow was slightly askew. Alfred smiled slightly in greeting- at least, Arthur thought he did; it was gone before he could tell for sure.

"Hello," said the girl in response. Her voice wasn't cold, which was something Arthur did not expect. If it were not for her blank expression, she probably would have seemed very friendly.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland," he said, still awkward, but more relaxed. Most of his discomfort stemmed from the fact that Alfred was staring at him in a very unguarded and intense way.

"Natalia Ivanovna Braginski."

"That's, ah, a mouthful," Arthur replied.

"I know. Where are you from? You have a different accent than others."

Arthur sat down, hoping that his intention to converse would not put either of them off. "I am from England."

"England? I am from Russia. What is it like in England?"

Arthur shrugged. "It's very different from here. Rainy, I guess. In all the time I have been here, I haven't seen a single drop of rain, and I am unaccustomed to it, that's for sure."

"The summers in Russia are beautiful," Natalia said. "The winters are brutal. But it's a little like that here, too. Not as bad, but not completely unfamiliar."

Arthur nodded, interested in what she was saying. However, out of the corner of his eye, he could see and sense Alfred's discomfort. He thought back to his conversation with Matthew at breakfast. If Alfred and Matthew were related… then that would probably mean that he had lived in this town his entire life too. It could explain why he would be uncomfortable.

Natalia noticed this and smiled to Alfred. "We should go over that history homework," she said. "Did you have History yesterday?" she asked, turning to Arthur.

"I have that class next, right before lunch."

"Ah. Well, if you ever want to study, they say it's better to study in a group," she responded, taking out a textbook. Arthur smiled.

"I would like that."

* * *

After a very hectic lunch consisting of Gilbert daring Antonio to drink cold milk as fast as he could and Francis bragging about all of the girlfriends he'd had, Gilbert and Arthur walked into their next classroom. Arthur looked around. There were several tables capable of holding two to three people each, and Arthur knew immediately that he would probably be stuck with Gilbert, unless one of Gilbert's new acquaintances was also in the class. Arthur sat down at the table in the middle of the room, taking out a book to read while the class filtered in. Gilbert sat down next to him and grinned.

"Looks like we are tablemates too, huh?" He stretched his arms out in front of him and yawned.

"Unfortunately."

"What? Why?" Gilbert looked dejected as he frowned dramatically at Arthur.

"What a difficult question…," Arthur sighed but smirked slightly to let Gilbert know he was just giving him a hard time. Gilbert snickered and turned his attention to the teacher who strode into the classroom, holding a bottle of soda and yawning.

"Hello," the teacher said slowly, taking an authoritative position at the front of the classroom, resting his forearms on a wooden lectern and looking out at his class. "The only reason I'm doing this mundane introduction again- you've all heard the spiel, of course- is because we have a few new people in this class, whether you moved or are transferring, and we all know that you hooligans need a review of the rules, so I killed some more trees and I'm gonna kill some more time. We have quite a large class, so you will all have to bear with the crowd. Anywho, my name is Mr. Walter. I teach this psychology class, but I also teach American Government, so perhaps some of you will have me next year, if you are juniors."

Mr. Walter took a drink of soda before handing out a single sheet of paper which was the syllabus.

"This syllabus," he said as he handed it out, "basically says 'mind your own damn business and you'll be golden'."

Arthur frowned. Is a teacher allowed to use that type of language? Gilbert thought it was great, if his chuckling was anything to go by. Gilbert stole Arthur's pencil and wrote 'Mind your own damn business and you'll be golden' at the top of his syllabus with a grin. Arthur frowned disapprovingly and snatched his pencil back.

"Please, don't do that again."

"No talking!" Mr. Walter called out loudly as he made his way to the front of the room again. Gilbert snickered.

"Now. Rules. Do what it says on the paper, and only worry about yourself. Take notes, do your assignments, and this class should go smoothly for you," Mr. Walter said as he swirled his bottle of soda idly. Another student made a remark and Mr. Walter started conversing with them, laughing, really laid-back.

Arthur sat there awkwardly, not sure what to do while Mr. Walter talked with other students. A few more moments of random conversation occurred, until Mr. Walter called the class to attention, going to the front of the room again. He picked up a blue foam ball and observed it quietly as the class waited for him to say something.

"Class, I have to tell something to you that you may not have known."

He waited for a few moments for the suspense factor. Arthur could not deny that he was curious as to what he was going to tell them.

Mr. Walter smiled slightly. "I have a lot of balls."

The class started laughing- they had heard this before, and it was still as awkward this time as was the first- and Arthur just stared at Mr. Walter like he had something coming out of his ears. Gilbert snickered in his strange way.

Mr. Walter held up a hand to silence the class. "And I am not afraid to throw my balls at people. Over the years, I have become very good at throwing my balls." He gestured over to the far left wall, where there was a girl Arthur vaguely remembered as being called Elizaveta sitting next to an Asian-looking boy with a ponytail. "I bet I can throw it over there, bounce it off the back wall, and it'll hit the back of your head," Mr. Walter gloated. Elizaveta smiled and laughed.

Arthur was positive that this teacher was possibly the strangest teacher he had ever met.

Class started rather unceremoniously after that. Mr. Walter launched into a long introduction to the course; most of it was ranting, and Arthur absently wondered if Mr. Walter had ADD. He looked next to him. Gilbert looked like he was ready to pass out. Arthur smirked.

_Serves him right for staying up so late last night._

Arthur was trying to keep a hold on Mr. Walter's rapid-fire train of thought when a piece of paper was shoved towards him. He looked down at it and recognized Gilbert's messy handwriting.

_Do you have any idea what this dude is saying?_

Arthur sighed. He didn't want to be passing notes, but it seemed like Mr. Walter was off on another tangent and chatting about the most recent American football game with another student, so he conceded. He picked up his pencil and wrote his response.

_Not really._

He passed it back to Gilbert, making sure that Mr. Walter still was not saying anything of substantive importance. The paper was soon passed back to him.

_He's a weirdo. But he's funny, so I guess I can live with it. _

Arthur smiled slightly, and he proceeded to continue his quietest (and probably most enjoyable) conversation with Gilbert until class ended.

* * *

"Block scheduling is stupid," complained Gilbert. He was watching a news program half-heartedly while Arthur finished up his Biology homework. "Why do they do it?"

"I'm not sure," Arthur answered, penciling in an answer to a question about viruses.

"Why have four eighty-minute long classes a day, alternating the classes you have each day, instead of having eight, like, fifty-minute classes or something like that? We don't need study hall; nobody studies in study hall anyway."

"Mmhm," grunted Arthur, focused on his homework.

"The only upside is that I can put off that stupid essay for English class until tomorrow night because it won't be due tomorrow."

"Procrastination is never the answer," muttered Arthur, giving Gilbert a sideways glance.

"Meh, I'll think about it tomorrow." Gilbert flopped backwards on his bed.

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. He put away his biology and opened his cooking book.

"Dude, we had homework for cooking?" Gilbert asked in a panicked tone.

"Yeah, weren't you listening to the teacher?" Arthur chided.

"No! I was too busy laughing about Feliciano's comment, y'know, about your weird sweet soup."

Arthur sighed. He didn't want to be reminded of the near heart-attack that was cooking class the previous day.

Gilbert groaned. "I thought I got it all done!"

"It's just notes," Arthur assured him. He completely blocked out whatever Gilbert said in return, though, because he found a piece of notebook paper lodged where the notes section was supposed to start. He couldn't read it- it looked like it was written all over in some strange language. Arthur recognized it, but he couldn't put a name to it.

"Hey, Gilbert, what language is this?" Arthur stood and showed Gilbert the paper with the strange characters all over it.

"That's… well, it's Cyrillic writing. Common to a lot of Slavic countries, countries that used to be in the Soviet Union, places like that. It's probably Russian or something."

"Russian?" Arthur turned the paper over and looked at it. "I'm going to figure out what this says. I feel in an exploring mood today. Is the library open?"

"It should be. Whatever you want, Mr. Holmes. No cheaty-cheaty, though. Oh, and if you forget your key, I'm not letting you back in once you lock yourself out."

"Quality roommate, you are," retorted Arthur jokingly as he grabbed his key and left the room.

The journey to the library was an uneventful one, and he quickly made his way into the building. There was a lady manning the front desk, and Arthur walked up to her.

"Is there a foreign-language section?" Arthur asked her. The lady smiled and nodded.

"It's over there."

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied. He found a Russian-English dictionary, and turned to the pronunciation guide at the front for Cyrillic lettering.

It took him a good five minutes, but he had finally got the sounds of the name down. The name sounded familiar….

_Who is Ivan Braginski?_

* * *

_"Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up."_

_~Ecclesiastes 4:9-10_

* * *

**AN: Lindsborg, KS is a real place. I've been there before, and it is probably the cutest town I have ever seen in my life (not that I have seen much of anything in my life- I am like Matthew; I've lived in one place my entire life). Still. I also completely and unsubtly based Mr. Walter off of my own psych and government teacher. He is such an enigmatic and strange person... I figured I'd share him with the world as best I could (I could never completely emulate what goes on in his head, but I can try).**


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur quietly entered his dorm room, in case Gilbert had decided to go to bed early, regardless of how much he doubted that occurrence. It was only eight-thirty at night.

Sure enough, Gilbert was still awake, but, instead of watching the news like before, he seemed engrossed in his typing of something. Gilbert looked up.

"Hey, Artie. You're back sooner than I expected."

"Translating everything was going to be too hard. And, don't call me Artie. What are you writing?"

"I figured I'd get a start on that English assignment."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I thought you decided to put that off until tomorrow."

"Nah. I decided to put off thinking about procrastinating this essay until tomorrow. And while I'm not thinking about procrastinating the essay, I might as well do the damn thing."

Arthur nodded slowly. "Charming. Have fun with that."

"Yessir." Gilbert made a mock salute before going back to his work.

Arthur sat on his bed with a sigh, opening up his cooking book to get the notes done.

"Hey, Artie."

Arthur didn't bother to argue. "What?" he asked without looking up from his work.

"Would it be safe to assume that Shakespeare was not a meteorologist?"

Arthur scrunched his eyebrows as he looked up at Gilbert in disbelief. "...Yes."

"How would _you _know?" Gilbert retorted. "For all anyone knows, he could not have even existed, and all of his stuff would have been written by aliens. That would explain why they messed all the English up."

"Two things. One, if you were going to stubbornly argue with me from the start, why would have asked my opinion? Two, that idea is so ridiculously absurd that if you were to include that in your essay, you would probably be sent to the guidance counselor for your problems."

Gilbert made a face. "And here you were muttering about _me_ not being a 'quality roommate'," he grumbled.

"I have a reason to complain."

Gilbert sighed. "Thanks for making this essay even worse than when I started… eh, you only live once. I should be okay if I provide evidence."

"Devil's Proof does not count as evidence."

"Devil's what?"

Arthur sighed. "Look it up."

"Fine, grumpy-trousers."

* * *

"Feliciano. Do you happen to know anybody named Ivan Braginski?" Arthur asked the Italian as they were measuring out ingredients- the one thing Arthur could usually do without injuring someone. Matthew was manning the stove on the other end of their little kitchen.

"Why do you ask?" inquired Feliciano, chopping up tomatoes with a deftness that made Arthur a little jealous. Rule number two of their kitchen was to not let Arthur near any knives.

"I figured you would know. You seem to know a lot of people."

"Hm, I actually don't know much about him. I do know his sisters, though. Katyusha and Natalia."

"Natalia?" He knew the name 'Braginski' had sounded familiar. He had met her yesterday, and she seemed to one of Alfred's friends. If Natalia was connected to Alfred, did that mean Ivan was too?

"Si. She's one year younger than us, I think. Katyushi is one year older. If I remember correctly, Ivan was in our grade."

"Was? As in, not anymore?"

Feliciano looked at Arthur like he felt he said too much. "Uhm, yeah. He transferred out last year."

There was a beat. Arthur frowned slightly. "He transferred? Leaving his sisters here?"

"Crazy, right?" Feliciano laughed nervously. "I think I remember hearing that his parents divorced."

It was a sound explanation, to be sure, but the way Feliciano was acting did not dispel Arthur's suspicions. Perhaps the town did not condone divorce, or maybe Feliciano was uncomfortable about it.

Or it could be something else entirely. Something Feliciano would not- could not- tell him.

"May I have the ham, Arthur, please?" Matthew asked to him, turning from the stove.

"Sure," Arthur gave Matthew the cut-up ham. "What are we making, again?"

"An omelet."

"Eggs? I could never make eggs right," Arthur sighed.

"Well, the good thing about eggs is that if you mess up one type, then you can just go crazy and make scrambled. All you have to do is not burn them," Matthew pointed out.

"Yeah…," Arthur frowned. "Easier said than done, in my case."

Matthew chuckled. "I'll believe that."

Mrs. Thompson was happy with Matthew's eggs, though she did comment that she was anticipating something more unique. Arthur smiled a little. It didn't seem like she knew that the only reason Matthew's cooking magic was needed was because Arthur usually managed to turn the kitchen into a nuclear factory.

However, their group's 'normal' eggs were nothing compared to the nuclear waste Gilbert's group decided to turn in. Arthur swore that parts of the omelet were burnt while other parts were raw, if that were even possible. Mrs. Thompson just smiled at it and commented that it looked very unique. She didn't eat any of it. Looking onto the scene, Arthur absently wondered if his mere presence in the classroom affected the ability of others' cooking. It would not surprise him.

* * *

Arthur sat with Feliciano, Lovino, Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert again at lunch. He didn't think Matthew had the same lunch as the rest of them, otherwise he would have gladly sat with the quieter boy. Feliciano was fine to spend prolonged amounts of time with, but he always asked why the school never served pasta for lunch, and Arthur had to keep telling him to wait for dinner.

At the other end of the long table sat Alfred, and Arthur couldn't help but keep looking in his direction. He didn't know why he had such a fascination with him, and Arthur was nervous. He wasn't sure if the reason really was just because Alfred never spoke, or if it was something bigger, like Gilbert always said.

Alfred was sitting with the short-haired blonde he saw him with the previous day, as well as another girl, with dirty-blonde hair coming to her chin. The other girl looked soft-spoken and gentle, and the three of them looked like they were doing an assignment together.

"Feliciano, do you know who those girls are?" Arthur asked him. "Sorry to keep asking you to identify people."

"It's okay!" Feliciano smiled and looked at the two girls sitting by Alfred. "Oh, there's Katyusha; I was talking about her earlier, yes? The shorter-haired one. And the other one is Lilliana. Or just Lilli, to her friends. She's really nice. She's a sophomore, and Natalia's best friend."

Gilbert overheard Arthur and Feliciano's conversation and smirked. "Crushing on the girls now, are we?"

"Be quiet!" Arthur snapped, frowning. Gilbert laughed.

"Bad idea, mi amigo," Antonio interjected. "Lilli's older brother is a senior, and he's known for his protectiveness. Vash Zwingli is his name. Anyone who messes with Lilli is visited by Vash in the middle of the night and never seen again…. At least, until a few weeks later when they get out of the HOSPITAL."

Arthur made a face. "You cannot be serious."

"Oh, he is," Francis affirmed.

"Isn't that against school rules?"

"It's off campus, and nobody who survives his wrath has the guts to tell the police."

"Yet they tell their friends at school, who can tell administrators…."

"Well… it's just hearsay, anyway," Francis admitted. "But he's pretty intimidating. The stories wouldn't exist if he were at least somewhat threatening."

Arthur shuddered. "I suppose it's nice that he loves his sister…."

"Yeah," Antonio laughed. "I'll feel sorry for whoever ends up being her husband."

Francis laughed along with him as Feliciano, Romano and Antonio stood so they could get their food, leaving Gilbert and Arthur alone at their end of the table. Gilbert turned to Arthur. "Why don't you just talk to Alfred, instead of going all Holmes on him?"

"I don't want to pry," Arthur half-lied, though he knew Gilbert knew that he was nervous about talking to the other boy.

"If you want to convince me that you don't have a crush on him, then why are you so nervous?"

"I'm curious about him. Why he doesn't speak and all of that. You know that."

Gilbert frowned. "Do you think that there's some mysterious and totally interesting reason about why he doesn't like to talk? You know, it could just be a throat condition or a generally cynical worldview. Why can't you just ask him why? Then you can put your imagination at ease."

"I can't ask him something like that. It would probably be insulting."

"It wouldn't be as creepy as stalking him, though."

Arthur sighed as the other members of his lunch band returned with their food. "Let's just drop it for now."

Gilbert shrugged. "Fair enough. You'll come to terms with your latent feelings someday, Sherlock."

* * *

For the first time since he had attended the school, Arthur was lost. Luckily, the day was over so he wasn't going to miss any classes. However, he needed to get his English essay finished, and he was eager to get back to his dorm room before Gilbert so he would have some time to concentrate.

Arthur sighed. "Aliens…," he said while shaking his head. "I hope Gilbert wasn't serious about that."

Arthur stopped and looked around him. It seemed that this part of the school was older than the portion he spent most of his time in. The walls were of a darker brick, and there were fewer windows. Arthur felt like the walls were closing in on him- the hallways were narrower here, and it was an oppressive force.

Arthur began to walk again. He turned a corner and spied a classroom. A weak sound was straining from the small room and Arthur, brows furrowed, crept closer to investigate. It was music, Arthur noticed. He peeked into the classroom through the window in the door.

The room itself looked like an old choir room. It was still outfitted with a blackboard, instead of a dry-erase one. Judging by the bare walls, the lack of any music or other teaching materials, and the really old-looking piano, he assumed the room had long fallen out of use. The new chir room was near Gilbert's piano classroom, Arthur remembered. He recalled seeing students singing outside one of the rooms when Gilbert had insisted Arthur go watch him play piano.

The music he had been hearing stopped. From where he was standing, Arthur couldn't see who had been playing. Arthur assumed this room was now reduced to a practice room. It was only now that he noticed the spare instruments in their cases scattered around the room.

The music started again. The sound wasn't horrible, but Arthur felt that it was very strained. The instrument being used was a stringed instrument, Arthur could tell. It didn't sound much like a violin though, which was what Arthur was familiar with- it went too low. Maybe it was a viola?

Arthur succumbed to his urges and opened the door, entering the old classroom to see who was playing.

He certainly did not expect to find Alfred there with what was undoubtedly a viola, struggling to play a passage in his sheet music.

Arthur knew that Alfred was at least a little musical, but he didn't know that Alfred played anything other than piano. This discovery made Alfred a little less of an enigma. He wasn't just "the silent boy".

Alfred did not notice Arthur's entry, still attempting to play the passage he was working on. Arthur watched him for a few moments longer, noting Alfred's posture and playing technique.

"You should relax," advised Arthur, without thinking of how Alfred would react. Alfred jumped- the poor boy almost dropped the viola in his surprise, turning to look at Arthur. Arthur felt a little guilty about startling the other boy, and he put his hands up and apologized.

"I'm sorry… I was lost and I heard music. I play violin a little, and I couldn't help but notice your struggle."

Alfred nodded slightly and smiled a little, sending a wave of relief through Arthur. He didn't know Alfred much at all, and was not sure how he took criticism.

Alfred lifted his instrument again and stared at Arthur with his bright blue eyes, as if waiting for Arthur's critique.

Arthur smiled and went closer, reaching to Alfred's left hand and gently straightening his wrist, slightly changing the hold he had on the instrument.

"If you keep your wrist straight," started Arthur, "It'll be easier for you to use your fourth finger to hit some of those notes."

Alfred nodded. Arthur continued.

"You can have better control of your bow arm if you bend all of your fingers of your right hand. It'll help absorb shock and allow you to do more with it. Just make sure you are relaxed, and enjoy yourself."

Alfred nodded again and let Arthur guide him to the correct posture.

"Try playing again. Just the first measure of your passage, though. Baby steps, you see."

Alfred did as he was instructed, playing the notes correctly. Arthur smiled; Alfred had already improved, and with just a few posture recommendations, too. Arthur felt proud that he was the one who have helped him.

An hour passed. Arthur was impressed at how fast Alfred learned- it was clear that Alfred was very musically talented. Arthur didn't understand why he was so far behind. Maybe he didn't ask for assistance enough, or was ignored because he seemed so quiet.

"You are really improving quickly." Arthur smiled, and Alfred stopped playing to look at him. Alfred stared at him before smiling back with a nod.

"Well… I should probably get going," Arthur said, stretching. "I have to finish that essay…. Have you finished it?"

Alfred nodded as he loosened his bow.

"I am uncertain about what I want to write about, exactly. Gilbert was talking about aliens and things. I'm worried for him."

Alfred laughed quietly as he put away his instrument. Arthur stared. It was the first sound he had ever heard Alfred make. Something about it made him smile.

_Oh my goodness, I must be the creepiest person alive._

"Well, thanks for letting me do this for you. Uhm… if you like, I'll be willing to help you again."

Alfred thought for a moment, and then nodded in affirmation.

Arthur grinned. "Great. I'll see you tomorrow." He turned and left, hoping he looked more stoic than he felt. In truth, Arthur was ecstatic. His friendship with Alfred was coming about, slowly but surely. He felt a little silly for being so nervous around the other student- it felt almost _natural_ to be around him. He got a different feeling with Alfred than with Matthew, though, and that concerned him slightly.

Alfred smiled and packed up his music.

* * *

Arthur entered his dorm room. Due to his impromptu viola lesson with Alfred, Gilbert was already there and watching the news.

"What's up, Artie?"

"I did what you advised me to. I just spent an hour actually talking to Alfred."

"Ooh! Did he say anything back?" Gilbert propped himself up on his elbows eagerly.

"No," Arthur went to his desk and opened up a Word document on his computer. "I just helped him with his viola playing."

"Maybe next time. You play viola?"

"I play violin. But the technique is very similar until he gets too advanced for mere violin crossover."

"Cool. So, happy you get to be with your crush?"

Arthur sighed. "I don't have a crush on him!"

Gilbert grinned. "Oh, yeah, sorry. You're just curious, huh? As far as I'm concerned, that's pretty much the same thing."

Arthur shook his head. "Leave me alone. I have to finish this essay."

"_Now_ who's procrastinating? Hey, do you want to read mine?"

"Wait until I'm done. I just need to write the last paragraph."

"Paragraph? I only have one paragraph. I hope that's good enough."

Arthur ignored him, beginning to type as Gilbert watched television nonchalantly.

A solid twenty minutes passed until Arthur saved his essay with satisfaction, relieved that he was finally finished. "Okay, I'm done. Let me read yours."

Gilbert eagerly jumped up and retrieved his essay, bringing it over and handing it to Arthur. Arthur took it gingerly, noting that Gilbert was not lying when he said the paper was only a paragraph long.

_Gilbert Beilschmidt_

_Mrs. Moran_

_Advanced English Language_

_23 October 2013_

_Shakespeare's writings are well-known for their lessons and themes hidden in the drama. Some of his most famous pieces of works are his tragedies such as _Macbeth_, _Hamlet_, and _Romeo and Juliet_. Upon further inspection, it is very clear that Shakespeare did not only integrate very humanistic themes, but became a prolific figure in the scientific world. Regard page 33 of _Hamlet. _The rises and peaks of the poetry lines- for Shakespeare wrote in iambic pentameter- correlate very closely with the pattern of earthquakes in California during 1933. A particularly long line on page 33 obviously refers to the 1933 Long Beach earthquake. This leads to a particularly jarring question: how did Shakespeare know that that earthquake was going to happen, centuries later? This is because our human perception of time is different from the perception experienced by the alien species undoubtedly floating about the Universe- their time is different, and they can experience all events simultaneously, and they decided to write about earthquakes in code. This theory of time is supported by many scientists. In conclusion, Shakespeare is an alien- or a group of aliens- who wrote about earthquakes and, if one were to turn the book upside down, rain patterns (another line on page 33 of the book refers to the 1933 Chesapeake–Potomac hurricane)._

Arthur had no words. Gilbert's works cited, on the next page, consisted of the book itself, Wikipedia articles on the 1933 Long Beach Earthquake and the Chesapeake-Potomac hurricane, and a scientific blog talking about time.

"I could figuratively tear this apart and tell you that you will automatically get a failing grade on it… but it is so extraordinary that trying to do so will probably amount to physical injury on my part, so I'll let you fly with it."

"Great! I wouldn't change it anyway. Besides, surely you know that this is supposed to be a satirical piece, right?" Gilbert took the essay back with a grin.

"Satire?" asked Arthur.

"Yeah. We are always looking so deeply into this whole thing in English class. Why do it? Do you really think that the author would have done something just so people would tear it apart and say, 'Well, he used a semicolon here to demonstrate the oppression of the native people, yada yada yada'? No. I doubt he would have wanted that at all. So I'm trying to make a statement that looking so deeply into something and having the _gall_ to say there is a 'wrong interpretation' is not the true meaning of literature. Literature should inherently give you a feeling of the meaning and theme. That's what makes good literature. We shouldn't have to fight for it. And, if we have to fight at all, then that's probably not what it was about."

Arthur frowned and thought about what Gilbert said. "I see…," he said. "That's actually very wise. Do you think the teacher will get it, though?"

"Even if she doesn't, I've made my point. That's all I care about." Gilbert smiled and flopped onto his bed. "What'd you write about?"

"I just wrote about the motivations of Macbeth and the influence of supernatural culture on his society. It's not as… unique as yours, certainly. I've always been interested in the supernatural."

"Like, Harry Potter?"

"Yeah."

Gilbert snickered. "So, you don't like Doctor Who, but you like Harry Potter? There's the stereotypical Brit I thought I knew."

Arthur sighed. "Shut up."

Gilbert just laughed.

* * *

_"A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."_

_~Proverbs 18:24_

* * *

**AN: Ah, I love the viola. It is a beautiful instrument. It has the delicacy of a violin, yet also the richness of a cello. Someday, I will have a viola army and we will take over the world with benevolence and music. You have all been warned.**


	4. Chapter 4

"Woooh! Go Jack!"

Arthur was awoken on his first Saturday morning at Hetalia Academy by Gilbert exclaiming excitedly about a movie. The television was turned down, thankfully, but Gilbert's volume level was about as loud as ever.

"Why are you being so noisy?" Arthur struggled to say, stretching groggily.

"Oh, dude, I'm so sorry!" Gilbert apologized. "_Pirates of the Caribbean _is one of my favorite movies, so I got a little excited."

"You like pirates? What time is it?"

"It's nine o'clock. You should be awake, sleepy-head. You are wasting this fine Saturday by sleeping in bed."

"And watching a movie is any better?" Arthur sat up, resting against his pillow and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You are still in your pajamas."

"So? Every morning is a good morning for pirates. Captain Jack Sparrow, to be precise."

"Sparrow? I've never seen those movies, but I've heard of him. A fool among fools, he seems to be."

Gilbert faked a pout. "Pish. You know nothing of the fine art of being an awesome pirate."

"Maybe I don't. And I don't think Jack Sparrow knows, either."

"Oh, he knows. He just does it badly." Gilbert grinned.

Arthur sighed. There was no going back to bed now- he was already awake and sensitive to the noises around him. He stretched and got up from bed.

"I should probably start on some homework."

Gilbert looked at Arthur with an incredulous expression. "Not even halfway through the morning, and you want to do _homework_? You should relax!"

"I was sleeping. That's a form of relaxing, at least. And, now that I'm up, I might as well get some of this work done. I think you are underestimating the amount of work you have."

"As my old German teacher used to say back home," Gilbert explained, "the time from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning is time that should be used for you, not school. You have the whole weekend ahead of you, Arthur."

Arthur thought about Gilbert said and sighed. "I suppose. Do you think the library is open on the weekends?"

"I don't see why not. But didn't I just say that you should be taking some you-time, Arthur?"

"I am. I just like libraries."

Gilbert made a face. "Whatever floats your boat, my man. I think they're going to stop serving breakfast by ten, though, so if you want some grub, you better get some."

"Thanks."

Arthur gathered his casual clothing and went to the bathroom to change. He emerged a few minutes later, and Gilbert turned to look at him.

"Dude, you wear sweater vests? That's ancient."

"What's wrong with my sweater vest?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Nothing. It just shocked me. I suppose it fits your personality. You always seem to be more mature than you look."

Arthur didn't know whether to take Gilbert's observation as a compliment. He assumed that it was and smiled a little. "Thanks. I'll see you later," he replied as he grabbed his room key and put it in his pocket.

"Yeah, sure. Have fun with your books."

"Charming." Arthur grinned as he left.

* * *

After having a rather uneventful breakfast of his usual oatmeal, Arthur went to the library. The lady manning the desk was different from the one he usually saw, and he smiled cordially at her. She, in general, did not look too keen on being there. She merely stared at him, and he looked away quickly, going to the mythology section and selecting a large tome to read from. He sat down and soon engrossed himself in his book, oblivious to the world around him.

Thus he didn't notice when someone sat down across from him until the table shook slightly from a book being placed down on it. Arthur looked up and saw Natalia Braginski open a book. She glanced up at him.

"Good morning," she said in greeting, that emotionless look still on her face. Arthur nodded once politely.

"Good morning to you too. Er, how are you?"

"I am okay. Lilli is out to buy a few groceries for lunch today. Alfred is with her. I didn't want to go, so I came here."

"So… er… you spend a lot of a time with the both of them, then?"

Natalia nodded in the affirmative. "Lilli is my roommate. Alfred was originally friends with my older sister, but he was nice to me so I got close to him too."

"That sounds nice… I haven't really gotten close to anyone except my roommate Gilbert and Matthew. Gilbert already seems to have his own little group of friends- I'm kind of just on the outside."

"It is quite the feeling, isn't it? If it means anything to you, perhaps you could join us for lunch? Lilli makes a wonderful ribel."

"Ribel?" Arthur asked, though he was thrilled at the prospect of being able to spend time with people, as opposed to being alone.

"It's a traditional cornmeal based dish from Liechtenstein. Lilli was born there, though I think she grew up in Switzerland with her older brother."

"Oh. Is her brother really as violent as people say?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Not exactly. He does threaten people to wits end, though. Sometimes he gets in trouble for it, but he does not threaten as often as people think, and he doesn't do it without good reason. Who is saying that he is violent?"

"Just a couple of Gilbert's friends. Er, Antonio and Francis, I think."

"Ah, that would be why, then. Francis and Vash have never had a good relationship because France used to flirt with Lilli a lot without her really wanting him to. She was just too nice to tell him to back off."

"That isn't really surprising," Arthur admitted, thinking back to the one day where Francis insisted on telling everybody about all of his partners. Arthur had spent the entire time sharing knowing glances with Matthew.

"It shouldn't be," agreed Natalia. "Anywho, we are going to have lunch around noon, so if you want, you could come by my room around then and join us. Lilli cooks in the common kitchen and brings the food back to our room."

"That sounds great," Arthur replied, smiling.

"Good. Here's my room number. Just tell someone I sent you, they'll open up the dormitory door for you. It's on the second floor." She handed him a slip of paper. Arthur nodded.

"Thank you."

"Of course. I shall see you then." Natalia stood and left the table, leaving Arthur alone.

Arthur sighed, looking down at the piece of paper. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only would he be able to spend time with people other than Gilbert, he was going to be spending time with Alfred. Surely, if Alfred was in a group, he would be more relaxed than he was during their time spend together yesterday. Maybe he could learn more about the silent boy then.

Arthur soon returned the book and left the library, smiling at the stern lady. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw her expression soften as he departed. He hoped that she would have a nice day, even if she did not seem to want to be there.

Arthur wasn't sure what to do for the next two hours. He could go back to his room and see what Gilbert was doing, but he was sure Gilbert was still watching his movie. Arthur sighed and resigned himself to walking around. It was a nice day after all, and he still wanted to see the entire campus. He started walking, looking at the landscape absently. He heard footsteps run up to him and he turned, seeing Feliciano there, smiling jovially.

"Hello, Arthur! How are you today?"

"I'm doing well, Feliciano. How about you?"

"Great! It's such a nice day outside. Romano and Antonio are getting ice cream." Feliciano giggled as if he knew something Arthur didn't.

"Ice cream? Is anyone else with them?"

"Nope." Feliciano grinned.

"Ah… I think I get it…" Arthur chuckled to himself. "It's nice that they are happy."

"Romano tries to say he doesn't like Antonio one bit, but he really does. My friend Kiku has a word for it. I think it was 'tsundora'. Someday, I just want to tell Romano, 'Oh, Romano, you are such a tsundora', and see how he reacts."

"Go ahead," Arthur smiled. "I wonder how he would take it."

"He'd probably hit me. Though he knows that it's true." Feliciano giggled.

"It seems like an unlikely romance…," Arthur observed. "Antonio's pretty laid-back. I guess opposites do attract."

"I guess so, too! Hey, do you like anyone?" Feliciano asked. Arthur was taken aback at the question.

"I haven't really been here long enough to develop feelings for anyone…." he answered quietly, averting his eyes away from the curious Italian, who had begun to smirk.

"Surely you can't be serious, Arthur? I thought you had a crush on Alfred."

Arthur stopped in his tracks. "You too? I have had a lot of that from Gilbert, but I thought he just said it to mess with me."

Feliciano giggled, looking back at Arthur. "It is a little obvious, when you look closely. You always stare at him with this dreamy contemplative look on your face."

"I…" Arthur felt his cheeks heating up. "I do not! What a preposterous accusation!"

Feliciano kept laughing. "You can deny it all you want, Arthur, but you will someday come to terms with your romantic feelings. I can sense romance from miles away."

"There's nothing to sense!" Arthur said defensively, touching his cheeks with cold hands to try to cool them down.

Feliciano grinned. "We'll see, Englishman. We shall see."

Arthur sighed and they kept walking, passing the rest of the time with idle chitchat before Arthur told Feliciano he had to go.

"Are you meeting a special someone for lunch?" Feliciano winked.

"No!" Arthur retorted. "It's just Natalia, Lilli, and some of their other friends."

"Hm, okay then!" Feliciano gave Arthur a knowing glance and pointed to a building nearby. "Those are the girls' dorms. Just ask someone and they'll probably let you in."

"Okay. Thank you." Arthur nodded and went in the direction Feliciano directed him in. He entered the dorms without much trouble, and stood outside the door of Natalia and Lilli's room. He knocked and waited for a few minutes before the door opened, revealing Lilli. "

"Hello! You must be Arthur. Come in!" she greeted politely, stepping aside for Arthur to enter. The room was in a similar set up to his and Gilbert's; there were only a few changes in the placement of the beds and desks. Alfred was already there, looking at something an unfamiliar boy was showing to him. Natalia smiled and gestured for him to enter further, and Lilli shut the door.

Arthur sat down next to Lilli, directly across from Alfred and the other boy. They both looked up as he sat, and Arthur noticed that the other boy looked remarkably like Lilli. Perhaps he was the brother people had been speaking of?

"Everybody, this is Arthur. I invited him to eat lunch with us today," Natalia introduced him. "Arthur, you know me and Alfred already. That is my roommate Lilli, and her older brother Vash."

Ah, he had been right, then. Arthur could not deny that he was a little uncomfortable. Although Francis and Antonio had probably been exaggerating when they said how protective Vash was, he still had to acknowledge that such a reputation must have come from somewhere.

"Hello," Vash greeted with a small smile.

"Hello," replied Arthur, as a knock came at the door. Natalia let the arrival in, and Arthur noticed that it was Katyusha.

"Arthur, this is my sister. Katyusha," Natalia introduced.

"Hello!" Katyusha smiled. Arthur nodded to her.

"Greetings. It is nice to meet all of you," Arthur said sincerely with a smile.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Lilli asked. "Have some food!" She gestured to a pan full of a cornbread-type meal. Arthur remembered Natalia calling it 'ribel'. He got a bit and began to eat, looking at the others as they began their own conversations. Lilli turned to Arthur.

"How do you like it?"

"It is different, but very good," Arthur praised. Lilli looked relieved that he hadn't disliked her food.

"That's a relief. Are you from Britain?"

Arthur nodded in affirmation. "England, to be exact. I moved here from Liverpool."

"That sounds delightful. I came from Switzerland."

"I'd heard about that. Have you adjusted well here?"

"It was hard at first, but everybody was really nice to me. I'm sure you'll do fine here, too." Lilli smiled.

"Thank you."

Arthur looked around at the rest of the group. Vash and the two Russian sisters were talking, and Alfred was busy eating his food, not engaging with the conversation around him.

Arthur turned to Lilli again. "Can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, or if you don't know."

Lilli looked curiously at him, wondering why he was speaking more quietly. "You can ask me anything."

"Er… do… do you know why Alfred doesn't seem to talk to anyone?" Arthur asked quietly, not wanting Alfred to happen to hear him.

Lilli was surprised at the question, and she tilted her head. "...I am not sure if I can answer that question. I sort of know why, but it seems like something you should ask him personally, you know?"

Arthur had guessed she would answer in that way, and he nodded. "I understand."

Lilli smiled. "Are you nervous to ask him anything personally? He might be quiet, but he's a nice person just like anyone else."

Arthur didn't know how to respond, and Lilli only garnered a more knowing look. "It couldn't be that you have… feelings for him, right?"

"Of course not!" Arthur said a little too loudly, attracting the attention of the others in the room. Arthur made a quiet apology, feeling on the spot. Lilli giggled. The others returned to their conversation, yet Alfred still stared at the English man as Arthur turned back to Lilli in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

Lilli giggled. "It is okay. You are a little defensive, don't you think?"

"I… I'm not defensive… it's just that the idea is totally absurd. Why does everybody keep asking me that?"

"I'm not the only one? Then there's something there, all right."

"There isn't… I'm just skittish, is all."

Lilli grinned. "I think you are anything but skittish. You seem to have made quite a few friends, and you have only been here a week. That's pretty admirable. Any lesser person would have been completely derailed."

Arthur smiled at the compliment. "Thank you. Everyone around me has been really supportive, so it's not all my charm."

Lilli smiled and stood, gathering plates. It was then that Arthur realized that Alfred had been staring at him. He looked back, observing the quiet boy. Everybody assumed that he had some sort of crush on Alfred. But that couldn't be true, could it?

Alfred suddenly stood and strode over to Arthur, sitting back down next to him. Lilli took his spot next to Vash. Arthur looked at Alfred, who merely looked back.

"Ah… hello," said Arthur. "How has your viola playing been going?"

Alfred smiled a little and nodded. Arthur took this as a good sign and smiled back.

"That's good. We should probably schedule our next lesson, shouldn't we?"

Alfred nodded in agreement and took out a pen and paper from his pocket, scribbling onto it and showing it to Arthur. Arthur inspected the paper, deciphering the small cursive script.

_What about tomorrow afternoon?_

Arthur's heart jumped and he looked at Alfred. He could have answered him normally, but something compelled him to take the paper and pen from Alfred smoothly. He instead wrote his answer on the paper, giving it back to Alfred. It said, _That would be splendid._

Alfred smiled and put the paper back in his pocket. Arthur was even more intrigued now than ever. Maybe one of Gilbert's suggestions about Alfred having a hurt throat or some sort of condition that affected his vocal cords was true. Arthur would never know for sure if he never asked Alfred, though. He pondered on it, but decided not to ask him just yet. It was probably a very sensitive topic for him. He would wait until he got to know Alfred more.

Alfred had not moved his eyes from Arthur at all. He knew Arthur stared at him a lot- he wasn't blind. He wondered why. It could be that Arthur was just curious about his silence. It would not have been the first time. Many people still, after half a semester, teased him about it. Alfred didn't care, though. He probably deserved it anyway.

Alfred couldn't shake off the feeling that Arthur's interest was different, though. Arthur treated him differently, and genuinely seemed interested to get to know him. Alfred was hit with a case of deja-vu. It was just like before, except flipped. Before everything went wrong, before everything became unbearable.

But perhaps not _too_ unbearable. Arthur certainly wasn't making school any more difficult. Alfred was a little happy. He loved spending time with Lilli, Natalia, Katyusha and Vash, but perhaps a slight change of pace wouldn't be too bad. He figured Arthur would be glad to be a part of their little group, anyway. He seemed to get along with Lilli and Natalia swimmingly.

Alfred smiled to himself happily. Perhaps things were looking up. Perhaps he could finally make up for the way he used to be.


	5. Chapter 5

"Your tuning is a little off," Arthur said, gladly reaching over to adjust Alfred's left hand gently, which had ended up slightly too sharp. "Try not to let your hand stray."

Alfred acknowledged Arthur's tip and started playing the passage he had been practicing for the last few days again. Alfred felt excited- he had improved so much, and only because Arthur had happened to get lost one day and heard him. Alfred sometimes wondered if those types of occurrences were intentional, or just coincidence. Alfred could not believe it to be some random happening in the universe… surely there was something behind it. No matter the intention of whoever organized these sorts of things, Alfred was grateful that Arthur had gotten lost. Things were looking up for him in so many ways. Alfred smiled to himself as he played.

Arthur was taken aback by Alfred's expression. He wondered what Alfred was feeling- if he felt the same butterflies in his stomach when Arthur would touch his hand and move it. He felt a flutter in his own stomach as he saw Alfred smile, and he was surprised at how much Alfred had improved since the last time he had heard him. He was so relaxed now, and Arthur thought he sensed something more content within the other boy, almost a sort of peace. Arthur wondered if it was directly his influence that brought Alfred's change in demeanor. The thought sent the butterflies flying again, making Arthur both happy and confused. Maybe he did feel… _something_ for Alfred Jones. Maybe all of his acquaintances had a point. Arthur sighed lightly, not wanting to spoil the moment by pondering whether he had a crush on Alfred or not.

Alfred seemed to notice Arthur's exhalation, turning his bright blue eyes to him inquisitively. Arthur smiled, assuring Alfred that he was fine.

"You have improved very well," Arthur told the other boy.

Alfred smiled and nodded once. Arthur assumed this was a thank you and smiled back.

"Practice some more, and go ahead a little bit. I think you're ready to tackle more of this piece. Just don't forget what you've been practicing. Keep relaxed, and keep your ears open so you stay in tune."

Alfred nodded and started clearing up his music, putting his viola away. He scribbled something down on a post-it note in experienced cursive script, handing it to Arthur.

_Thank you_.

Arthur smiled warmly at the blue-eyed boy. "You are most welcome. Should we meet again soon? Maybe next week at this time?"

Alfred nodded in agreement. Arthur felt his cheeks warm slightly at the prospect, watching Alfred as he finished packing up his instrument and music. Arthur put the post-it note in his pocket. Alfred turned to leave, but then stopped in front of Arthur, looking into his eyes. Arthur was about to ask about what Alfred was doing, but before he had a chance, Alfred hugged him.

To say that Arthur was shocked would have been an understatement. Alfred was gripping him rather tightly, but Arthur wasn't thinking about being able to breathe- he was so surprised by the gesture that he probably wouldn't have been breathing anyway. Arthur gently reciprocated the hug. Half of him was wondering what brought this about, the other half was a jumbled mess of feelings. He felt elated that Alfred seemed to trust him enough to give him physical contact, but at the same time he was confused. Alfred's actions made it more difficult for Arthur to figure out what he felt for him.

The hug felt like eternity to Arthur, but it was probably only a few moments. Alfred drew back, still holding his viola, and flashed Arthur a million-watt smile. Arthur felt his cheeks getting hotter- Alfred did not seem to notice this, and he left the room quietly after that.

Arthur sat down heavily in an old chair, pressing his hands against his cheeks to try to cool them off. It was absurd to be so ruffled by a single hug- Gilbert hugged him often, to his annoyance, and he never blushed then. The idea of being attracted to Alfred in the first place was absurd. He barely knew the boy and couldn't think of any reason to be attracted to him. Right?

Arthur sighed again, louder this time, as he stood and prepared to leave.

* * *

"He hugged you?" Feliciano asked. "That's really cute!"

"No it isn't!" Arthur protested. He and Feliciano were at the local frozen yoghurt shop, and sort of spying on Romano and Antonio. Feliciano had seen Romano leaving with the Spaniard half an hour earlier, and had dragged Arthur with him so he could watch his brother's interactions with Antonio, undoubtedly trying to land some evidence that Romano adored Antonio in his 'tsundora' way.

Arthur didn't know what compelled him to tell Feliciano about Alfred hugging him out of the blue. Perhaps it was because he would be the safest person to tell about it, and Feliciano had already hinted that he thought Arthur had a crush on the blue-eyed boy, so it wouldn't be any shock. Arthur knew he would never tell Gilbert, who would probably tease him about it, and he didn't want to tell Lilli because she was always with Alfred and might tell him something.

So, incidentally, only Feliciano was left.

"It is too cute!" Feliciano disagreed, eating a mouthful of his pecan-caramel frozen yoghurt with a knowing smirk on his face. "Don't tell me you are a tsundora like my fratello! I couldn't take it! You are so adorable."

Arthur sighed. "That idea is absurd. I'm sure it was just a friendly hug."

"Then why take the time to tell me about it?"

"Well… I just thought you'd like to know."

Feliciano smiled, swiping some of Arthur's mint yoghurt, and tasting it. "You thought… I'd like to know. That Alfred hugged you. Randomly."

Arthur got the vague idea that Feliciano was making fun of him somehow and frowned. "Why did I even tell you?"

"You obviously wanted my opinion on the matter," Feliciano answered for him. "And my opinion is as follows: I think that you deny and avoid your inner feelings for Alfred because you are afraid of the repercussions, whatever they may be."

"I have no inner feelings for Alfred!"

"You may say that, but I can sense love from miles away." Feliciano smirked. "You know that, and inherently want to acknowledge your feelings for Alfred, so you came to me for assistance, which is good thinking. Maybe you won't acknowledge your feelings because you feel intimidated by Alfred and his possible rejection of you."

"I am not _intimidated_ by Alfred."

"Hm… you always ask other people about him- not him yourself. And since he can't give you a verbal answer, maybe he doesn't seem as capable of an intimate conversation to you."

Arthur frowned, thinking over Feliciano's assertion. As much as he wished that Feliciano was making things up, what he said made a little bit of sense. Alfred seemed removed from the world around him- whether that was due to his silence or something more was unclear to Arthur, but he could definitely sense it. Was Arthur intimidated? Arthur wasn't sure if that was exactly the case. Nervous, it seemed more like.

Feliciano shrugged and finished off his frozen treat. "No matter what you plan to do with him in the future, be sure you follow your heart, not your brain. Your brain will try to trick you. But your heart shall always remain pure. Unless you keep an unhealthy diet, of course."

Arthur chuckled. "Yeah, thanks."

"Hm… I wonder when Romano is going to admit that he likes Antonio…." Feliciano pondered, laying his head on one hand and looking over to his brother and the Spaniard.

"...With the way he snaps, I think it'll be a while."

Feliciano laughed. "Well, that's to be expected. Fratello is so stingy. He'll kill me later if he learns I've been spying on him. Anyway, what was it like?"

"Huh?"

"Alfred's hug. What did you think of it? Was it one of those really clingy ones that last for hours or like, one-handed or something? He was probably holding his instrument case, right?"

"He was, but it was two-handed." Arthur's cheeks started coloring against his will again as he thought back to the scene. "It wasn't too long, but it seemed like forever."

"Ah, young love," Feliciano said with a philosophic air, and Arthur sighed.

"It wasn't love. Just a friendly hug between a tutor and a student."

"Heheh, teacher-student relationships are always the most scandalous."

"You are an idiot."

"I know. Romano tells me all the time."

Arthur sighed. He really wanted to talk about something else. Feliciano seemed to sense this and started chattering away about cooking class, much to Arthur's relief.

* * *

Alfred sat on his bed in his room, flipping through his Biology textbook, thinking about his day. His impulsive side had shown itself quite nicely, and Alfred was not sure what to think about it. At least Arthur hadn't pushed him away, and he seemed fine with the impromptu embrace. Alfred smiled to himself, not noticing when his bedroom door opened and someone came in.

"You look happy," said a familiar voice. Alfred jumped and looked over to see Matthew standing there with a slight smile on his face.

Alfred said nothing, as per usual, once again reminded of his relationship with his brother and the reason why he enjoyed Arthur's companionship so much in the first place. His mood immediately darkened as his thoughts turned away from the British boy and to his current situation.

Matthew recognized the discomfort of his brother but he moved closer anyway, sitting down in a chair next to Alfred's bed and twiddling his thumbs.

"Look, Alfred… I… I know that we haven't had the best relationship for the past few years… but this whole… mute thing is kind of scaring me."

Alfred merely stared at his brother, predictably not speaking a word.

Alfred's gaze unsettled Matthew and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat before continuing. "I know you think you've done something wrong, but you've changed, haven't you? It warms my heart to see you interacting with Natalia and Vash and the others. What happened over the summer was not your fault. You couldn't have prevented it. A lot of people don't have a problem with you anymore, so why continue this whole non-speaking game?"

Alfred's expression darkened and he pulled out a piece of paper, scribbling on it, paying no regard to keeping it neat as it usually was. Matthew sighed as his younger twin pushed the paper towards him.

_They don't have a problem with me because I don't talk. I'd like to keep the animosity at a minimum, thank you_.

"There's no need to be sardonic," Matthew replied. "People didn't like you because of your attitude, not because you spoke. And they don't like you any more because you're quiet. They'll like you more because you've changed your worldview. Get it? I'm sure if you spoke, people wouldn't change their opinion of you at all, especially if you worked to improve yourself… That _is _what you have been working for, right?"

Alfred frowned and wrote, _It is what I've been working towards, but that is not the only reason why I refuse to talk._

"Then what is the reason? It's not because of Ivan, is it?"

At the mention of the name, Alfred tossed the paper aside and left the room, the expression on his face blank and cold.

Matthew sighed. He should have known better than to mention the Russian's name. He fervently hoped this conversation wouldn't hurt the already-weak relationship he had with his brother.

* * *

Arthur couldn't concentrate. Gilbert had decided to invite Francis and Antonio over to their dorm room to watch the news and chat, and that had prompted a very heated debate over the reliability of American news, resulting in Francis calling FOX a "_trés stupide pomme de terre_". Arthur had no idea how the FOX news station was related to a "very stupid potato," but he decided not to question Francis' logic.

Seeing Antonio only reminded Arthur of Romano, who reminded him of Feliciano, who reminded him of his situation concerning Alfred. Arthur couldn't get Alfred out of his mind; it kind of scared him. It had only been a week… was he really developing some crush? Did Alfred just intrigue him that much? He was determined, for sure, and a quick learner. From what Arthur could observe, Alfred had impeccable school grades. However, there were many things that Arthur could not hope to know about Alfred just yet. Alfred never talked for some reason, people never really talked to him except for Natalia and the others of that group, and there was some guy named Ivan related to the entire situation. Feliciano had said that Ivan transferred schools. This was what confused Arthur the most. Ivan was in their grade, so he couldn't have graduated. And both of his sisters were still there.

Maybe it was the same situation as with Arthur's second-oldest brother, who decided to go to a Catholic academy instead of this school. Maybe Ivan was no longer content with Hetalia Academy and decided to pursue his academic interests elsewhere.

Even while trying to logically make his way through the situation, Arthur got the feeling that he was looking at it all wrong. But he could think of nothing else. If something had happened to Ivan… it would be beyond cruel for Arthur to remind Natalia and Katyusha of it just because of his insatiable curiosity.

Arthur also wondered why Alfred's last name was Jones while Matthew's was Williams. They were twins- it was strange for their names to be different. Matthew seemed to avoid the topic of Alfred, too, if that one breakfast conversation was anything to go by.

"Hey, Arthur, you wanna play this video game with us?" Gilbert asked. Arthur looked over, shaken out of his thoughts, and smiled. Perhaps something trivial like that would be just the thing to get his mind off of things.

"Fine," he walked over and took the game controller offered to him by Gilbert and sat on Gilbert's bed.

"See, you can be fun sometimes, Mr. Brit!" Gilbert laughed. "Let's get this game started! The night is ours!"

* * *

_"For the LORD will not cast off for ever: But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies."_

_~Lamentations 3:31-32_

* * *

**AN: I just noticed that I didn't put in a Bible verse last chapter. Sorry about that, in case some of you were wondering why there wasn't one.**

**Thanks for reading! I am very grateful to everybody who gives me their input. Flameo, hotman! Stay flamin'!**


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